Following the time in Hawaii, my friend, Elizabeth had an appointment about an hour away. She was being screened for participation in a clinical trial of a new med. Her son took her to that screening. The purpose of the drug in the clinical trial is to shrink the tumors.
Liz had been increasingly short of breath the day of the screening. Worried, her son then took her to the emergency room on advice of the physician. It was Thursday morning. They admitted Liz to the hospital for a workup.
Saturday morning I got the news that the cancer had spread to Liz’s brain and spinal column. I am a health professional, well aware of what that may mean for her. And for me.
My mind drifted back to last summer. Liz is my quilting buddy. Last summer I spent every night at her house until at least midnight working on a quilt I wanted to finish as a wedding gift. We watched silly TV shows while I sewed. We shared laughs and conversation. We sat together and surfed the internet for stories, and our kids’ facebook pages, and online shopping.
We share so much - eclectic music, movie and book tastes. Faith. Humor. One night, as a refreshing breeze came through to cool off the house after a blistering hot day, I was standing at the ironing board. Liz came out of the bathroom, walked over to me and said “we will have to remember these summer nights.”
It was this moment that entered my brain when I got news that the cancer had spread. I began to cry and could not stop. I texted friends. I spoke with friends from my youth who live far away. A local friend came over quickly to hug me. Another came the next day and stayed awhile. My son held me tight as I sobbed. I put on music and danced around, searching for some drop of joy. It all helped.
I am so blessed. But I cried alot last weekend. I realized that I had been “stoic” for quite some time. It occurred to me how very painful it is to my psyche to see my friend in pain and sick.
I have never endured something like this. My Dad died suddenly in his chair watching a Cubs game for heaven’s sake! (They won. We joke that the shock killed him). Friends who have passed were either not that close to me, or tragedy had struck in the form of a car accident. No one could have prepared me for the pain of watching Liz fight for her life, day after day, knowing that at some point she will more than likely lose the fight.
Written by Mary Horton Sondag
Mary Horton Sondag, BSPT lives in Lafayette, California with her husband, Alan, where they raised their three sons. She is a physical therapist, specializing in geriatric care in the acute, rehab and home settings for 30 years. Caregiver training is an integral part of her daily work in all settings. She enjoys travel, quilting, writing, singing and sometimes just doing nothing at all!
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